


Backs to the Wall (The Darkness Will Fall)

by andachippedcup



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 3x20 spoilers, F/M, Felicity Wants to Rescue Oliver, Short One Shot, The Fallen Spoilers, post 3x20
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3805750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity and Oliver say goodbye at the end of episode 3x20, but Felicity isn't ready to give up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backs to the Wall (The Darkness Will Fall)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick oneshot I had to write after the emotional roller coaster that was 3x20! Spoilers ahead!

_Well let's not say goodbye this time._

His lips were warm against hers as they kissed. And though they weren't saying goodbye with words, she could taste it on his tongue, could taste it in the salt of her own tears. She could hear it in the sound of his breathing, the ragged exhales that betrayed that he too, was on the verge of crying. Goodbye was in the subtle contractions of his fingers as they met her skin, resisting the desperate urge to cling to her - and she to him. Goodbye was on the cool night air as it broke against her too-hot skin, so eager to see her alone and cold in the absence of the heat he always radiated. For not saying goodbye, they were saying it quite a lot, in other ways. 

Their foreheads brushed as they broke off the kiss and she leaned into the touch, small but oh so intimate as they lingered near to each other, neither one eager to be the one to make it end. And despite herself, she breathed in the smell of him one last time because she was going to need _something_ to cling to. Even if that something proved to be old shirts of his, still tinged with the smell of his cologne. 

When at last her tears threatened to overwhelm her, she drew away from him quickly, afraid that if she didn't move now, she'd never be able to. Her legs felt like lead as she walked away from him, her left hand pressed against her mouth to hold back the sobs and screams she _wanted_ to utter. But it would be selfish; Felicity could not cry aloud anymore than she could beat her breast or rip her hair. Because doing so would not lessen her pain by any measure but it would most certainly _increase_ his. And Oliver Queen had suffered more than enough for one lifetime without her making matters worse.

She felt like she was being held together by a thread as she kept walking away from him, each step widening the already immeasurable gulf between them. And she wanted to look back at him – to burn one last image of him into her memory before he was gone. But if she turned back now, she would most certainly be lost. Because there was no way she could look at him standing there, alone amidst the enemy's territory, eyes red and ringed with tears, and keep walking. If she turned back, it would be to run into his arms and refuse to leave, Ra's al Ghul be damned.

And Oliver couldn't take any more deaths. Or near deaths. Or resurrections.

And so, though it broke her heart to do it, Felicity kept walking, carefully avoiding the raging mass of emotion growing like thorned vines within her heart. She had loved him. _God_ she still did. And now she was losing him, after only just having found him.

It didn't matter that he wanted her to go and live and be happy. He'd clearly forgotten her words to him regarding her own happiness. _As long as you're in my life, I am_. How could he expect her to move on and be happy without him now? Now that she knew what it was to feel so completely safe in his arms. There was no reason she should have felt safe; they'd been in the bastion of the very evil they'd been fighting. And yet, when he'd lifted her into his embrace and walked her to that bed, Felicity had never felt more protected. And now she was supposed to move on? To forget that trust, that love and tenderness?

She couldn't.

She couldn't forget what his lips felt like, branding her skin with heated kisses. She couldn't forget what his hands felt like as they explored her body and rid her of her remaining articles of clothes. She couldn't forget the taste of his tongue, or the way his kisses made her breath catch and hitch. Nor could she forget the warm, solid weight of his body pressed against hers. What it had felt like to wrap her arms around him and cling to him for dear life. She couldn't forget what it felt like to fall apart completely in his arms, utterly spent and perfectly at ease.

For this and a million other reasons, Felicity knew she could not be happy. Not so long as Oliver was trapped by that… that _monster_. She'd said they would start a war for Oliver and she'd been telling the truth then, _before_. And now? _After_?

She'd sooner take on Ra's al Ghul in a sword fight than abandon the man she loved to him.

As she reached the jet's staircase where the others were already inside and waiting, Felicity gripped the railing tightly, refraining from giving in to the overpowering urge to look back. Taking a deep, steadying breath she closed her eyes and then opened them with fresh determination. Oliver was right; this wasn't goodbye.

As she strode aboard the jet, John looked up at her, worry creasing his brow.

"Felicity-" he began and she only shook her head as she crossed the jet to where her laptop was stowed and waiting for her. Opening it, she began to tap ferociously at the keys as she typed up a message to Barry. Whatever drama he had with Doctor Wells no longer was enough of a concern to prevent her from reaching out. She'd reach out to him and Cisco and Caitlin. She'd reach out to Laurel and Nyssa, she'd call up Roy on his satellite phone, she'd plead with Ted Grant and Ray (he'd lent her a jet, maybe he'd help her on this final request). Felicity would contact every other person they knew if that was what it took – she'd ask Amanda Waller for her support (and the help of ARGUS, by extension). The Suicide Squad. Hell, she'd see what the Bratva could do (he was a Bratva Captain, for crying out loud, maybe that would mean _something_ ).

She didn't know how they'd accomplish it, or where they'd go if they did free him. There was a lot that Felicity didn't know in this situation, and her not knowing a lot? That was a rare occurrence. But Felicity did know two things. One - come hell or high water, she was going to see Oliver rescued from Nanda Parbat and The League of Assassins.

And the second thing? She loved Oliver Queen. What choice was there but for her to save him? If the tables were turned, he wouldn't rest until she was safely back in his arms – she was certain of that.

Really, there was no choice to make.


End file.
